Disclaimer: Joss is Boss. (i.e. I don't own any of this. Except the story itself. Since, well, I wrote it. Just don't sue and we'll all be happy)
Summary: Somehow Angel always finds himself in these awkward and unexpected conversations…
Spoilers: "Belonging," in Angel, season 2
Pairing: A/C friendship
Distribution: Just ask!
Special Thanks: To my wonderfully encouraging friends! Love you all!
Author's Notes: I've been told this story is too cute for anyone's good, which is not something I normally write, but here it is. This scene takes place after the events of Belonging, so you'll have to forget that Cordy got sucked into Pylea at the end of that episode. Enjoy!
The Garden
He found her sitting in the garden. Her face was hidden behind her ringed fingers and her body was slumped over; tired and protective against anything that wasn't her own painful thoughts. He sat on the bench beside her and slumped over, too, as the stone bench had no back and would not allow for a more comfortable pose. Perhaps that's why they usually chose that one over the ones against the wall. The garden wasn't generally used for casual conversation, so casual postures seemed out of place.
"You ok?" He asked.
She sighed.
"Yeah. I will be."
She let her hands drop, playing absent-mindedly with one of her rings. She stared into the darkness at nothing. Angel looked at nothing, too. Their own thoughts played enough images to satisfy the need to see something.
"You know," Angel said finally, "my offer still holds."
Cordy glanced up at him. "What offer?"
Angel shifted, uncomfortably aware at how strange this would sound to anyone but her. He suddenly became interested in looking at his fidgety hands.
"To kill him for you."
Cordy stared at him so intensely she might have been trying to read his mind. "You're completely serious."
Angel nodded. "Well, yeah. You think I wouldn't…?" He looked up at her.
She thought a moment. "No…I guess not. I just figured it was a …heat-of-the-moment thing. You do tend to get dramatic when you're upset."
"I--" The thought of arguing flashed briefly through Angel's mind, but he knew it was true. "Well. I still would. If you told me to right now. I would."
"I believe you. And—and I can't believe I'm saying this—but…thanks."
"You're welcome."
They let silence fall again.
"If it makes you feel better," Angel said suddenly, "I would've slept with you."
"What?"
Angel had meant it in the best of intentions, but there is little that intention can do for such statements. "That director," Angel said. "He said he was supposed to want to sleep with you." Angel shrugged. "I would have."
"Thanks?"
"I know it doesn't really seem like a compliment, but-"
"-Angel," Cordy leaned toward him teasingly, "is there something you're trying to tell me?"
He smiled. "Nothing you don't already know."